decemberthirty: (Default)
I finished Cavedweller a day or two ago, and it was a total disappointment. The beginning of the book had great narrative drive, but that all seemed to disappear by the time I was about a third of the way in. The driving conflict behind the first part of the story (Delia's desire to get her daughters back), was resolved when there were still hundreds of pages left in the book, and I don't think that Dorothy Allison ever managed find a compelling reason for writing the rest of those hundred of pages. She got very tangled up in her characters' lives, but not in a way that was particularly cohesive or compelling for me as the reader. I also had a big problem with the sense of time in the book. I couldn't ever seem to get a handle on how much time had passed between one episode and the next, and throughout the book I lacked a definitive sense of the ages of the characters, which made it harder for me to identify with them. Things came together a little bit near the end, but the middle just got so horribly bogged down! It was full of episodes of which I could not see the significance, and narratives that I couldn't figure out where they were going. All in all, it seemed to me to be the kind of situation where a writer puts out a critically acclaimed and massively popular first novel (i.e. Bastard Out of Carolina), and then editors become unwilling to criticize or direct the author's subsequent work.

After finished Cavedweller, I was out of new reading material, so I decided to reread The Eye in the Door by Pat Barker. I reread Regeneration shortly after finishing my own novel, and of course it was wonderful, but I didn't react anywhere near as strongly as I'm reacting to The Eye. I think it's because I'm much more familiar with Regeneration. It was my third time reading it, and I listened to it as a book-on-tape a year or two ago. Eye is much less familiar, and as I'm reading it, I'm very surprised by how much of the plot I seem to have forgotten. I think that the only other time I read it was when I was stuck in Gatwick for nearly a whole day after missing my flight to Switzerland, and I read the book almost in one sitting. So it stands to reason that I would have forgotten a lot of the details. I tend to whenever I devour a book in that way. And now, of course, I'm devouring it again. But I can't help it. It's more of those men, those repressed and yearning men that never fail to break my heart. Just like Sammy Clay, Rivers and Sassoon and the rest are forced into that state of tortured, unexpressed self-denial that I'm such a sucker for. Oh, they break my heart!
decemberthirty: (Default)
I was on vacation last week, so I have a fair amount of reading to report on. The first book I read was Pigs In Heaven by Barbara Kingsolver. As you may recall, I read The Bean Trees a few months ago and found it to be fun and engaging, not Great Literature by any means, but a promising first novel. Unfortunately, Pigs In Heaven is about as disappointing a sequel as you could imagine. The plot seems highly contrived, characters' motivations are not well developed, and it really fails to deliver on the promise found in The Bean Trees. I was especially disappointed with Kingsolver's depiction of the Cherokees, which seemed remarkably stereotypical for a book that seems to want to raise awareness. All of the Cherokee characters are portrayed as a giant extended family, every single one of them poor but happy, the children respectful, the elders wise... I found it really annoying, and thought that Kingsolver really could have done better.

Next, I read Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, which I found rather fascinating. I don't think I've read any other African writers, and therefore it was very different from just about anything else I've ever read; the rhythms in which the story was told, the way the narrative was patterned, even the word choice and sentence structure all seemed deeply African in a way that I really can't explain. Saying that makes me feel like a silly white girl pretending to understand things I actually have no knowledge about, but that's the feeling I got from the book. Reading it was an interesting experience because it really took me a long time to figure out the way the storytelling worked and to allow myself to fall into the rhythm of it. At first I found the book to be surprisingly unemotional, but Achebe surprised me with an ending that had remarkable emotional and political impact.

And speaking of emotional and political impact, the last book that I read while on vacation was In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez. This was by far my favorite of my three vacation books. Alvarez did a great job taking a true story of mythical proportions and imagining it fictionally on a human scale. I was fascinated by the lives of the Mirabal sisters, and I felt that Alvarez did a very good job of demonstrating the way each of them fell into their heroism in different ways. She gave each of the sisters her own distinct, believable personality and unique voice. I loved the fact that the story was narrated by each of the sisters, each of them responsible for telling different parts of the story, each in her own tone, with her own concerns and preoccupations. All in all, it made me very curious to find out how much of the story is factual, and how much is known about the lives of las mariposas. I found it to be a much more inspiring and realistic story about revolution than The House of the Spirits for instance.

And now I am reading Cavedweller by Dorothy Allison. I'm not even halfway into it yet, so I don't have too much to say. It seems pretty decent, although not quite good as Bastard Out of Carolina. The main problem that I have with it at this point is with Cissy. She's supposed to be a fairly young child, but many of her perceptions and the things that she says seem far too adult to be realistic. Now, certainly there are children that grow up quickly, and Cissy did grow up in circumstances that might cause a kid to mature fast, but I still find that some of the ways she sees the world just don't ring true for a kid her age. Allison did a much better job with a young protagonist in Bastard.
decemberthirty: (crane face)
Well, it's certainly been a while since I've had anything to say... But that's not because I haven't been reading! Since my last update I read Bastard Out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison, and found it totally engrossing. I wouldn't necessarily say that it was the most literary piece of fiction ever, but it was well written and extremely engaging. I particularly appreciated Allison's ability to work with a large cast of characters and yet manage to have each one of them seem like a distinct character, with individual qualities and and a unique perspective.

The book also provides an incredible portrait of rural poverty. It's easy for those of us who live in big cities to look around and see the panhandlers and homeless folks and think that that's all there is to poverty in this country. But this book served as a strong reminder that there is crushing destitution in rural areas as well, and that lives are as easily destroyed by poverty out in the sticks as they are in the inner city.

One caveat, however, before I recommend this book to anyone: it has at least one highly disturbing scene that could potentially be very upsetting. It is certainly worth reading, but you should be warned.
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